


Three Times Alec Didn't Let Magnus See Him Cry, and One Time He Did

by notcrypticbutcoy



Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Angst, Crying, Happy Ending, Hidden Emotions, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Malec, Tears, older!alec
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-27
Updated: 2015-10-27
Packaged: 2018-04-28 11:36:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5089217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notcrypticbutcoy/pseuds/notcrypticbutcoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As the signs of age begin to show, Alec finds old insecurities resurfacing. And he's determined to hide his torment from Magnus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Once He Didn't

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure how I feel about this. It's a bit meh. But I thought I'd post it anyway.

Alec didn't very often look at photographs. He wasn't really a nostalgic person. He understood Magnus' need to take pictures; to go around snapping his phone at annoying moments, but Alec hardly ever looked at any of the warlock's photographs.

He hadn't intended to look at this one. Magnus had gone early in the morning to see a client, all in a rush, stressing over trying to find something he needed. Alec couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Magnus look that flustered. 

When Alec had eventually hauled himself out of bed two hours later, he'd stumbled into the bathroom, exhausted from the long night he'd had negotiating peace between a vampire and two werewolves, having patiently explained to both parties that he wasn't there to take sides, and that no, he didn't owe the vampires anything because Lily had babysat Max more than Maia had. 

He'd seen the photograph laying on the side of the sink, next to Magnus' toothbrush. It caught his eye, mostly because Magnus was meticulously careful to leave all his printed photos in an album, not just thrown carelessly around the apartment.

Curious, Alec rubbed the sleep from the corners of his eyes and headed over to the sink to see what the photo was of. (Idly, he wondered why people always said that teenage laziness left. He was in his forties, and he still loathed getting up early when he'd had a late night just as much as he always had.)

At first, he smiled reminiscently when he saw himself and Magnus together, grinning widely and delightedly at each other. Alec was behind Magnus, and had his arms around the warlock's chest, his chin resting on Magnus' shoulder. Magnus was laughing at him, one hand reaching up around his neck, the other holding onto the Shadowhunter's forearm. A moment after the picture was taken, they'd kissed, smiling under the New Year's fireworks.

It was an old picture. It was just over a year after Magnus and Alec had gotten back together after the war, and, Alec realised wistfully, he looked so young. 

Despite all the arguments they'd had about it when Alec was eighteen, he'd never been particularly conscious of how he looked against Magnus. He'd been fortunate, really. He'd been blessed with genes that had let him age slowly. He didn't have grey in his hair, yet, and it had barely thinned, though he was into his forties. He had laughter lines around his eyes, and a few other finer lines across his forehead and mouth, but the continual physical exertion required of Shadowhunters kept him in impeccable shape. 

But, looking at that picture, he realised that, whatever he'd been kidding himself into thinking, he didn't look the same age as Magnus anymore. Maybe he'd been able to get away with it a decade ago - Angel, up until his later thirties, even - but not now. 

No. He looked like an older friend of Magnus'. Or, worse, like his father.

Like his goddamn father.

Alec swallowed heavily, and looked at himself in the mirror. He wondered what people thought when they saw him and Magnus out, together, as a couple. Mundanes weren't quite so disapproving of age gaps as Shadowhunters, but five or ten years was very different to what would appear more like twenty or twenty-five years.

He was twenty-five years older than Magnus, physically.

Old enough to look like his father.

He pressed his fingers to the lines around his eyes as a deep sadness filled him. This was it. He was growing old, while Magnus stayed forever young. Getting older didn't matter to Alec, in and of itself, like it used to, but not being able to grow old with Magnus bothered him, and the way people would start to look at them bothered him. 

How could Magnus continue to look at him and tell him, honestly, that he found him beautiful? In a few years - Angel, any day now - when his hair started to grey and fall out and his knuckles started to swell, how could Magnus tell him he was beautiful?

Alec didn't realise his cheeks were wet until the tracks glistened under the lights. He stared at himself in the mirror, sorrow and desperation and a little bit of self-hatred filling him. It had been a long, long time since he'd felt like that. 

He hated it. He hated everything. He hated what was happening.

The sound of the front door opening made Alec jump, his heart pounding. He glanced behind him, panicked at the thought of Magnus finding him like this, and quickly wiped at his eyes, forcing away the knot in his throat. He turned on the tap with a shaking hand, and splashed ice cold water over his face in an attempt to calm himself.

When he looked up again, Magnus was grinning at him in the mirror, leaning casually against the doorframe. "Good morning, sleepyhead."

Alec shot him a weak smile, trying to swallow the sick feeling in his stomach at the sight of himself and Magnus together. The warlock, all flawless skin and sparkling eyes and perfectly-styled hair, and the Shadowhunter, ageing and scarred and flawed.

Magnus' smile dropped. "Are you okay?"

Alec nodded quickly. "I'm fine. How was your client?"

Alec dried his face and hands as Magnus launched into an animated story, annoyed and indignant sparks flying from his fingertips in emphasis. 

Only when Magnus' back was turned did Alec allow his mask to drop, and the misery to cover his face.


	2. Twice He Didn't

Alec tried his best to push away his fears and upset over the next few weeks. He looked around when he and Magnus were out together, wary of people watching on, but few people paid them any attention. A sharp-looking woman of about Alec's age threw them a disapproving glance, but Alec honestly had no idea whether that was because of their age gap, or because she was stuck in the past and was turning her nose up at a flamboyant man kissing another man in public. 

He felt like, maybe, things were still okay. Maybe he had more time. He didn't really look like a mundane man in his forties—Shadowhunters never did look their age due to all the physical exertion. Maybe this was an issue he could put away for another few years.

But then he found the grey at his temples. 

At first, he just stared at it uncomprehendingly. His hair wasn't thin—thinner than when he was eighteen, yes, but he hadn't noticeably lost any, unless you compared him to an old picture. But he had grey not just at one, but both temples. A few strands of silver spread through the black, standing out horribly as he stared at his reflection.

The bathroom door was locked. That was the only thing he could be grateful for as his knuckles tightened on the edge of the sink and he sucked in a shaky breath. Magnus was in the bedroom just a few feet away, humming softly, but there was something between them. The warlock wouldn't just stroll in. Well, Alec supposed he could, if he really wanted to magic the door open, but the lock was a deterrent. 

He closed his eyes, not wanting to see the signs of age in the mirror. It wasn't vanity that caused the knife in his heart. It was the difference between himself and his husband. It was what people would see and think and whisper. (Angel knew he'd had enough of people whispering.) It was the countdown that showed on his body, ticking down to the day he had to leave his husband and his family. 

"Shit," he whispered as tears leaked out from beneath his eyes. The thought of leaving behind Max made him want to scream and sob, and the idea that he had to leave Magnus, too... He couldn't bare it. Any of it. "Shit."

He pressed his fingers against his eyes, trying to stop the tremors running through him. He needed to get a grip on himself. Magnus was right out there, and he'd been in the bathroom far too long already. Magnus would start to wonder what was taking him so long, when he was usually in and out in five minutes. 

And whatever happened, Magnus couldn't know about this. Not when he thought Alec was over it. He thought things were okay. He thought Alec had accepted that Magnus was immortal, and he wasn't. 

And he had, in some ways. He'd accepted that he'd get as long with his family as he did, just like everyone else. (That didn't mean he had to like it.) He'd known that this day would come, and he'd thought he was okay with that. Maybe mundanes wouldn't understand their relationship, but that wasn't really important. 

But it brought up every old insecurity he thought he'd overcome, and every fear he thought he'd left behind in his teenage years. 

He didn't want Magnus' view of him to be shattered. He didn't want to appear weak. He knew it was ridiculous - Angel, it was all kinds of stupid - but talking about his feelings, even with Magnus, was something he still loathed. 

He gave himself another two minutes to compose himself, then walked out, trying to act casually as he moved towards the dresser to find some clothes. He felt suddenly exceptionally self-conscious of the silver in his hair; he felt like he wanted to hide it from Magnus. 

God, what if Magnus had already noticed? He couldn't have. Alec had only just noticed it himself. But Magnus would notice, and soon, if he hadn't already. 

He didn't realise that he was shaking again until Magnus had one hand on his fist and the other on his cheek, looking at him worriedly. Black-rimmed eyes searched his expression, and Alec felt like turning away. He didn't want to be under that scrutiny when he felt so insecure and self-conscious and vulnerable. 

Alec averted his eyes. He saw Magnus frown out of the corner of his eye. 

"What's the matter?" Magnus asked him. "You're shaking."

Alec closed his other hand into a fist, and pulled away from his husband. "Am I?"

He didn't miss the flash of hurt that covered Magnus' face as he turned away. "Yes."

"I must have pulled a muscle yesterday," he lied, pretending to search for a suitable t-shirt. Which, of course, would only seem stranger, considering Alec almost always pulled on the first clothes he laid hand on without much care.

Magnus watched him silently as he found a t-shirt and tugged it over his head, then grabbed his jeans and yanked those on, too.

"Do you want coffee?" Alec asked, trying to keep his voice light. He still didn't really look at Magnus.

"Yes, please," Magnus said quietly. 

Alec hurried out of their bedroom, thankful for the distraction of something to do. He set about making coffee for himself and Magnus, relieved that he didn't have to keep a neutral expression on his face, but also tense because Magnus could come through at any moment.

Magnus didn't walk into the kitchen until Alec was done. He handed Magnus his coffee, shot him a quick smile, then side-stepped him to head over to where he'd hastily discarded his ichor-covered jacket and weapons the previous night. 

"Alec?"

Alec stopped, but didn't turn around. "Yeah?"

"You never did tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong. I'm fine. Just tired, I guess." He turned back, and tried his hand at a smile again, hoping that this one would be more convincing. 

Magnus stepped towards him, sighing a little. "Sure? You can tell me if there's something else, Alec."

Angel, why did Magnus have to know him so well? "It's nothing. I'm just feeling a little overworked. I'm not a teenager anymore." 

Magnus lifted a hand to his neck, a wicked grin on his lips that Alec didn't really understand. "No, you're certainly not. You're a whole new kind of sexy."

Alec felt the words like a knife to his heart, and was grateful when Magnus leaned in to kiss him, giving him time to school his features into something less pained. There was no way Magnus could really mean that. He just couldn't. He was getting less and less sexy every day, and there was nothing that could be done about it.

Magnus pulled back, breaking their kiss, and brushed his fingers through the hair at the nape of Alec's neck. "Forget patrol tomorrow. You're staying here and sleeping. You look exhausted, darling."

Alec laugh was genuine. "I'm not sure that would go over well. I'm meant to be the responsible one. But can I ask you a favour?"

"I don't do you favours, Alec," Magnus said. Déjà vu washed through him as he remembered Magnus telling him that very same thing a long, long time ago, both of them lying on a floor soaked with river water, Magnus about to pass out and Alec having barely escaped drowning...

Alec pushed away the memories. "Can we maybe not go out tonight?"

Magnus looked at him for a few seconds in silence, searching his face, then nodded. "Of course. If you're tired, we can just get take-out and curl up on the couch or something."

Alec nodded gratefully. Magnus had made the assumption Alec wanted him to: That Alec was too tired to go out. In actual fact, he didn't think he could take going out with Magnus, holding his hand, being kissed (because no way would he be initiating public kisses anymore) by him, when he felt so self-conscious and so embarrassed. 

"Thank you," he said.

Magnus was looking at him like he was a puzzle he couldn't quite solve. "Do you want to grab breakfast at that cute little place round the corner?" he asked slowly.

Alec swore he nearly had a heart attack (or maybe just a panic attack) at the suggestion. "Uh, I'm not really hungry."

Magnus folded his lips together, and touched the back of his hand to Alec's forehead. "Are you feeling okay?"

Alec nodded perhaps too enthusiastically. "Of course! I'm fine."

"Hm." Magnus pulled his hand away, looking down at Alec suspiciously. "Are you just trying to get out of a dinner date with me?"

Alec panicked immediately. "What? Of course not! Don't be ridiculous! Why would I—"

Magnus laughed. "Alec, darling, I was joking. I know you're over that."

Magnus turned around, still chuckling a little, and Alec's weak smile dropped off his face. 

If only Magnus knew...


	3. Thrice He Didn't

As he summersaulted down from the beam in the Institute training room, Alec let out a sharp cry of pain. He barely had time to twist to land on his feet rather than his head before he was crashing down on the hard floor.

White hot pain was shooting up and down his back. He screwed his eyes shut, hands and knees on the floor, hands bawled into fists as he tried to focus on anything but the agony centred either side of his spine. 

"Alec?" Jace's voice came from the doorway. "Alec! By the Angel, what happened?"

Alec gritted his teeth as Jace knelt down beside him, a hand hovering worriedly by his shoulder. "I don't know. I think I wrenched my back."

Jace sighed. "It's my job to be reckless, not yours. Remember? What's got into you recently?"

Alec knew that Jace was referring to the way he'd come to the Institute at all hours of the day and train, continually, for hours and hours upon end. It was the kind of behaviour expected of Jace, but not of him. 

"I've had a lot of my mind," Alec hissed, digging his nails into his palms. "I've needed a distraction."

"Yeah, well, you've got one." Jace slid a stele out of his belt, and lifted Alec's t-shirt to get at his back. "Here?" He touched his fingers lightly to halfway down Alec's back on his left side.

"Yeah. Both sides."

Jace drew two iratzes on either side of Alec's spine. The burning sting as he drew the runes didn't help Alec's level of pain. He honestly felt like if he so much as breathed too deeply his back would explode or break in half and he'd never be able to move again.

Jace sat back on his heels when he was done drawing, and regarded his parabatai curiously. "Do you want to talk?"

"No," Alec said shortly, not moving from his position. 

"Well, I'll give you my opinion anyway." 

Alec scowled at his blond-haired brother. "You always do. And I never know why I listen to you, because you give appalling advice. You'd have thought that after thirty years I'd have learnt that."

"Please," Jace said. "I give amazing advice. You and Magnus are two of the most in love people I've ever seen. It's honestly disgusting the way you two look at each other. Really. It's vile. So whatever it is you're arguing about, it's not worth it."

Alec loosed his fists just a little, and straightened a little experimentally. It was a bad idea, he concluded. "Who says we're arguing?"

"Oh, please. I know you well enough to know that something's going on between you two."

"We're not arguing," Alec said quietly. 

"Then what is it?"

Wincing, Alec moved so he was sitting on his heels in a mirror image of Jace. "I don't know how much time we've got left. I just— I'm not young, Jace. How can Magnus love me when—"

"I'm going to stop you right there." Jace shook his head. "Magnus adores you. Hasn't he proven that enough? He pressured the Clave to change their laws so you two could get married. He's dedicated his life to you. He decided to raise a family with you. He's told you all the things he refused to tell anyone else. You going grey isn't going to change any of that."

"Of course it's going to change things. And he hasn't dedicated his life to me. He's giving the fraction of his life that I'm there for to me. And that's good. That's fine. He shouldn't dedicate eternity to me when I'm going die and he's—"

"Alec." Jace laughed a little. "That wasn't poor phrasing on my part. Magnus had given his life to you. So whatever it is you're thinking, stop. It's not true. Go home. You can't patrol when you're in that much pain anyway. Call Magnus and ask him to make a portal for you."

Alec shook his head quickly. "I can't."

"Why not?" Jace was losing his patience, Alec could tell. He sounded huffy. Honestly, how did Clary do it?

Alec didn't say it out loud. Because wrenching every muscle in your back is what you do when you're old. And I don't want Magnus to see me as old. Ever. 

Jace, of course, seemed to understand. At least, he understood enough. "You're being stupid."

"I'll get a cab."

Jace exhaled, and shook his head. "You know, I feel like I barely know you sometimes."

***

Magnus wasn't home when Alec got in. The Shadowhunter couldn't have been more relieved. The iratzes had helped, but not quite enough. He situated himself carefully on the couch, remembering when Izzy had hurt her back on a hunt a few months ago and spent the next two weeks using it to get poor Simon to wait on her hand and foot. 

Magnus came home about half an hour after Alec did. He strutted into the living room with a bright smile on his face, and bent to press a kiss to Alec's lips. He hummed cheerfully as he kicked off his shoes and threw his coat to one side.

"You're in a good mood," Alec commented. 

"I overcharged an exceptionally rude and irritating vampire, I'm home early, and I ordered Chinese because I had a craving." 

Magnus lifted Alec's legs and flopped back on the sofa. Alec clenched his fist in an attempt to stop himself wincing at the movements. Magnus propped his own legs up on the coffee table, further disturbing Alec's position. That time, he didn't manage to prevent the little hiss of pain that escaped.

Magnus' eyes snapped to his, expression showing nothing but concern. "Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine," Alec said through gritted teeth, closing his eyes.

Magnus didn't move a muscle, though he looked like he wanted to. "No, tell me. You know I can help."

Oh, did Alec know. He couldn't count the number of times he'd sighed in relief as Magnus successfully patched up one of the New York Shadowhunters. He didn't have the answer to everything, but agonising pain was something he was generally quite good at handling. 

"Alec," Magnus said, when Alec remained silent for too long.

So, quietly, Alec told him. And, carefully, Magnus helped him. Then he pulled Alec into a gentle hug, as though he knew that there were other things upsetting Alec, and wanted to make it better.

And in Magnus' arms, his face hidden, he let a tear slide down his cheek.

Yet again, he kept it away from Magnus' too-sharp eyes.


	4. Once He Did

_Magnus,_

_I love you. I love you so much. And I'm so grateful for everything you've done for me, and everything we've shared together, and the time we've had._

_But you deserve more. You deserve better. You deserve everything I can't give you anymore. That's what you do when you love someone, right? You let them go._

_I don't never want to see you again. I don't want to abandon you, or Max. I want to let you move on from me. I don't want you to be trapped. I want_ —

"Alec, what in the name of god—"

Magnus' voice so close by made Alec drop his pen. It fell to the floor with a clatter, and the startled Shadowhunter cursed and bent to pick it up. When he straightened, he saw Magnus staring between him and the note he'd just been writing in what could only be described as abject horror.

"Please," Magnus said, "tell me this is some kind of sick, twisted joke. Please tell me I'm going insane."

Alec averted his gaze, unable to look Magnus in the eye. "No," he said quietly. "You're not. It's not."

Magnus, when he spoke, sounded utterly bewildered. "What on earth is going on?" Alec swallowed, and turned away when Magnus stepped forward and rested long, thin, ring-clad fingers on his cheek. "Alec..."

When Alec kissed Magnus, it was a moment of weakness. It caught them both by surprise: Alec's lurching movement forwards, his arms flying up to grip at Magnus' hair, the desperation and mess of the kiss.

Alec pulled away, and found that there were tears streaked down his cheeks. Magnus was staring at him in something akin to shock, his fingers brushing over the Nephilim's cheeks almost absently.

"Tell me what's going on, Alec," Magnus implored him. "If you think I haven't noticed that you've been acting strangely the past few weeks, then you're very wrong."

"I'm sorry," Alec whispered. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. Just tell me."

Alec lifted his eyes to look up at his husband, and sucked in a deep breath. "I didn't tell you what's bothering me because I knew you'd be disappointed in me."

"Disappointed?" Magnus was astonished. "I'm never disappointed in you. I'm proud of you. You're my strong, badass, sexily-confident Shadowhunter with a huge heart. You don't disappoint me. Not ever."

Alec tightened his grip on Magnus as the warlock wiped a thumb under his eye. "You think I'm over the fact that you're immortal and I'm not."

He felt Magnus stiffen. "Alec—"

"No, listen. I am over it. I've been over it for a while. I don't like it, but we get what we get, and I get to love you and be loved by you. That's enough. But I'm not– I'm not young anymore. And one day - Angel, maybe even now - people are going to look at us out together and judge, or whisper. You deserve more than this, Magnus."

"Stop right there." Magnus ran his fingers through Alec's hair, brushing past where Alec had noticed grey at his temples. "You do know how ridiculous you sound, don't you?"

"I'm not being ridiculous," Alec mumbled. "I don't like this. I feel self-conscious when we're out together. I feel like a teenager again—scared. It's horrible."

"Oh, my Alec." Magnus smiled at him. "What am I going to do with you?"

"Break up with me?"

"Don't be stupid. That was a huge mistake the first time around. I'm not doing it again."

"This isn't something you can magic away, Magnus," Alec said. "And I'm not going to get younger."

"Stop." Magnus shook his head. "Stop. I'm not letting you do this. I love you. I think you're beautiful. I'll always think that. Mundanes might not understand our relationship, and it might take a while to get used to that, but we're not the first people ever to do this."

"Tessa?" Alec asked. "Do you mean Tessa?"

"I do," Magnus said. "She and Will raised a family together in Victorian London. I think we can do this in the twenty-first century, don't you?"

"How did they do it?"

"Sometimes she used a glamour, when they were in public. Other times, they learnt not to care what people thought. She was shunned and whispered about enough: she was used to it. Will would have ruined anyone who dared be unkind to her." Magnus smiled ruefully. "They could both have quite the temper."

Alec smiled at Magnus' reminiscing. Once, the idea of having this kind of conversation with Magnus would have been laughable. Magnus didn't speak about his past. But things were different now. They'd been different for a long time. Alec felt like a child enraptured when he heard Magnus' stories of the past.

"So," Magnus said, "can I burn that?" He nodded to the note Alec had been writing.

"I'm not going," Alec said.

"No," Magnus agreed with a wink, "you're not."


End file.
